Sunrise Crossing. Jodi Thomas

tonight. He’d pulled over when her relatives flashed their lights, thinking he’d talk to them. Only his own dad had been just behind the Greys and there had been no talking to either man that night.

      It was probably the only time the two families had ever got together. Jewel Ann’s father pulled her away, not caring that he ripped her clothes as she fought.

      Gabe’s dad had shoved her relatives aside as he came after his own son with a bat.

      Two of Jewel Ann’s uncles held him while his old man beat him. Her screams, as they forced her to watch, hurt worse than the blows. His dad had always been a cruel man, and he proved it that night. Once Gabe started bleeding, his old man put his hand against the wound, not to stop blood, but to make sure it flowed over his fingers. Then he took a break from the beating so he could spread blood over the girl’s breasts.

      She’d screamed until she passed out. Even her father’s slaps wouldn’t wake her.

      They took her home, but his dad stayed long enough to cuss his son and tell Gabe that if he ever came back he’d kill him. Even after Gabe could no longer move or even try to fight, the blows kept coming, breaking skin and bones.

      His dad left his only child in the ditch, covered in blood and mud. In his mind his son had dishonored the family, and there would be no coming back home.

      Gabe knew he’d die if he didn’t move, and pure rage made him get to his feet. Slowly, he limped to a truck stop a few miles down the road. It was almost dawn by the time he reached the place. There was no one to call, no use in reporting the crime. Everyone in town was afraid of his dad—even Gabe’s mother.

      He hid in the back of a truck with Colorado tags and slept as it drove north across three states.

      When the trucker found him later that night, he dropped Gabe off at the hospital. When the doctor realized how much blood he’d lost, he said it was a miracle Gabe was still alive. He had broken ribs, a broken arm and a concussion. And after they sewed up his cuts, he also had forty-seven stitches crisscrossing over deep bruises.

      It wasn’t a miracle he’d lived, Gabe thought. It was determination. He’d spent the days in the hospital changing, hardening, so nothing would ever hurt him again.

      In the midnight moonlight Gabe reached the Crossroads cemetery and pulled out his flashlight. The trees that he remembered as being small were overgrown now and permanently bent by the wind.

      The Stanley family graves were there, near where the canyon dropped down off the flat land at the back of the cemetery. It wasn’t an ideal spot—on rocky ground and hard to get to by car. But Gabe always thought it had the best view of Ransom Canyon.

      The facts about his parents were carved in the headstones: His father had died a few months after he’d beaten his son almost to death. His mother had died ten years later. There were no other graves in the family plot, even though it could have held a dozen more. To his knowledge, there were no more Stanleys. Only him.

      He moved to the Grey family plot, looking for one name: his one love, Jewel Ann. Even in his mind, when he said her name, he said it fast as if it were one word.

      There were six Grey graves dated the same year he’d been beaten. Two were names of the men he remembered holding him down that night. Jewel Ann’s uncles. No new graves since. What was left of the Grey family must have moved on. After all, both families had roaming in their blood, so it would have been unusual for them to stay on this land for so long.

      Jewel Ann Grey’s grave wasn’t there. If she was dead, she hadn’t died here. Somehow that gave him comfort.

      Gabe liked to think she’d married someone acceptable and moved on, but that night had probably damaged her as much as it had him.

      He clicked off the flashlight and walked along the canyon’s edge, knowing one missed step on the shadowy edge might be his last, but he’d walked this close to danger so many times it felt comfortable.

      Below, he saw a few lights from a little lake community. He remembered there being only a few houses near the water, but now the shadows of homes surrounded the lake and spread up the valley almost to the north road.

      As he climbed above the cemetery, he could see the lights of town. Crossroads had grown, maybe even doubled in size since he’d left. It slept so quietly, Gabe had trouble believing anything bad could ever have happened there. The high school was twice the size it had once been, and there was a huge sports complex that had been only a grass field when he was in school. The main street had another block of businesses, and what looked like new housing ran along the east side.

      Gabe veered onto the north road and shifted from a jog to a run. He wanted to see if his home was still standing. The place had had three generations of Stanleys who’d lived in it before he did. His dad had never repaired or painted anything, so it looked terrible when he’d lived there as a kid. Now it might only be rubble.

      He saw the trees that had been big years ago. They now framed the house on three sides, hiding it from the road almost completely.

      As he neared, Gabe was drawn to a sliver of light coming from a building behind the old house. A barn that hadn’t been there in his childhood.

      Silently, he moved closer. The house might be dark and look like the perfect setting for a horror movie, but there was movement from what appeared to be a new barn.

      For a while he stood watching the inside of the barn through the sliver of light. A young couple worked side by side. The man was tall and lean with dark hair. The woman was small, but it didn’t take much to realize that she was more skilled than the man.

      He couldn’t tell if they were even talking. He only saw them cross the light as they worked. They were obviously comfortable with each other, for they often moved close together.